A Knight to Kill Me
by Secondhand Soul
Summary: A 50 themes challenge with Kranna - Contains various themes, some sexual, some sad, some sappy. It explores their dynamic as two living, breathing, people with thoughts and desires. Lloyd will not make an appearance as an active character in this fiction, though he will get mention, but the focus is on them as a couple, not as parents, so it's not without reason.
1. Spiral

A Knight to Kill Me: 50 Kranna Moments

By Secondhand Soul

"Spiral"

It had been a long day, impossibly so, a day in which Kratos wanted to do nothing more than simply fall into a deep sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He would not even take off his shoes, nor his cape, oblivious to the world about him, to even Irving and her incessant talk about her plans to help liberate this city from total fear of the Desians.

He didn't want to hear it, did not want to think about what she planned, about what idiocy he had agreed to, had been dragged into. No, right now that was not his concern. He would stall his slow descent into madness for a few hours of sleep before she woke him with some new complaint about the influential men of the city.

He had to admit that her spirit was inspiring. Not many were as vibrant as Irving, so filled with an idealistic fire that was determined to burn through all opposition. She was so bright that the light even touched her eyes, relentlessly and continuously continuing to glow, enough to influence even someone as set in their ways as he was.

Yes, there was something to admire of her, but the vast majority of the time he found her to be extremely grating, a strain on his nerves and on their finances, what, with her constant scheming.

So it was that he dragged himself up the stairs to their second floor room in one of the cleaner and more respectable, but still relatively cheap, inns of greater Palmacosta. He was dead to the world already, in his own eyes, dead to any stimulation, unaware as he opened the door that his plans were destined to be thwarted.

He could hear splashing from the adjoining room and because his mind was muddled did not really connect the noise with bathing for some reason or another. Dumbly, he walked toward the slightly ajar door and peered in, pulling himself away nearly as quickly, blood rushing from his face.

It had not been a terrible sight, though it had been scarring, the image seared into his mind so bright and white hot that he would not be able to ever erase it from his memory.

In his mind's eye, Kratos could still picture her, the curve of her back, the way that water had dripped from her breasts as she stood, drenched. And he could only imagine her then, soaked in sweat, underneath him, their bodies ignited in passion … It made him shiver, his mind spiraling out of control as he imagined their coupling, and, to his great shame, discovered that the thought … pleased him.

In more than a carnal way, it pleased him.

He wanted her not only for the sight of her thighs quivering beneath him, for the feeling of her insides convulsing around him as he drove himself into her body, but because her blazing spirit would match his own intensity. Because she could be for him what a person he had only just met could not be – The idea of being with her appealed so much to him because, on some level, he respected her.

The downward spiral continued.

He imagined the ghost of her on his lips, the way her green eyes would glint with amusement and challenge, how her mouth would be as demanding as his own was. A partner who would be his sexual equal because she was his equal in other ways, a woman who would not be dominated as if she were some withering wallflower … Irving commanded respect, and he was sure the bedroom was no exception.

Kratos fell hard through the glass roof of his own carefully constructed illusion, rendering the distance he'd placed between them useless. Irving was a woman, an attractive woman whose cries he would like to hear as he sucked and licked her breasts, as he touched her, claimed her.

A noise distracted him somewhat from his thoughts, and his dark eyes darted upward to see her leaning against the doorframe of the washroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel. There was a grin on her attractive face, and she laughed at him, taking a step forward. Her face said it all; the expression in the depth of her eyes, and Kratos knew that she had seen him look in on her.

He swallowed thickly, trying to tell his twitching fingers that no, he could not go over there and rip that towel off of her, drag her to the bed, and rub himself against her just to feel the friction.

Kratos' thoughts spiraled further away from him still, and some rational part of him commented that things could never be repaired if they passed this point, that nothing would be the same again. The other part of him, the part that was dominant right now, might have lost the argument had Anna not opened her mouth to speak.

"You look upset, Kratos," she said in a sultry tone, teasingly; she was egging him on, and he realized with a thrill that this was an attempt at seduction.

She dropped the towel.

Kratos rose from the bed, even as he spiraled into the ground.

At one she was in his arms, their lips locked just as he had imagined as he dragged her naked body towards the bed. Everything was just as he had imagined, save that her fervor burned even more hotly than he'd anticipated, and that his own sensation reached up to wrap about and overwhelm him.

She burned him, but he let himself be consumed by her, not minding in the slightest. Her fingers stripped him, stripped him until there was nothing left to protect him from that heat, the heat of her body fueled by her unshakeable will.

Together they spiraled out of control.


	2. Stripes

A Knight to Kill Me: 50 Kranna Moments

By Secondhand Soul

"Stripes"

His hands fell upon her shoulders, fingers and thumbs gently working away the kinks. As usual, he found, her muscles were strained with tension, apt to loosen only with gentle coaxing. Kratos kissed her neck was he was prone to do, feeling her relax underneath his gentle touch.

"You are so tense, beloved," he muttered softly, nuzzling the place his lips had lingered only moments before.

"Not as half as tense as you, I'm sure," her voice was soft, playful, and she turned her head for a kiss, which he was more than pleased to oblige her with. "Mr. Knight, always acting like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders."

His lips curled up into a dry smile, and he chuckled, "The weight of two worlds, actually."

"Dork," she muttered, but relaxed into his touch, the lull allowing him to observe her more carefully.

Anna was a beautiful woman, her bronze skin smooth and soft to the touch, though her palms were rough with callouses. It was the work she'd done on their journey that had worn them, made them strong, but he appreciated that about her – It matched the steady fire that was her spirit. Her hair was soft, her eyes bottomless and expressive green, her voice deep for a woman's but soothing, like the sound of water flowing lazily over stone.

And she burned, burned like the fires of the earth, not cold and distant like the starlight that he used to comfort himself with. Anna was always present, present and warm, melting through his coldness and distance, making him thaw – but only ever for her. No other could make him like this; no other had ever held so much sway over his heart.

So it troubled him when she told him, in confidence, that she felt she was ugly, that there was no beauty in the curve of her hips or her smile, no grace in her strides as she ran through the tall grass, laughing away the dankness of sorrow and garbing herself in a mantel of warmth and forgiveness.

His heart was burdened with the knowledge that she thought her scars marred her, made her undesirable. They were not disfiguring, he had explained, those stripes from the whip on her back and arms did not mar her beauty, left no blemish that could make him find her detestable. "Always," he said to her, his voice more desperate, more earnest, than he had intended, "I will always think you are beautiful. I will always find you desirable."

She had laughed at him, eyes sparkling. "I don't know why," she'd admitted. "But I'm grateful for it nonetheless."

How could he explain it to her?

Why, even if the rest of the world thought that her scars made her ugly, Kratos would never balk away from them. Why he thought that her scars were signs of her beauty and diligence, badges of honor that made it even clearer what manner of person she was. Why, no matter what, the stripes she bore made her shine even more radiantly.

"You're awfully quiet," her voice in the present drew him from the past, and he snorted.

"I am always quiet," he told her, kissing one of her scars and watching her shudder in response.

She laughed at him, and he smiled as he felt more tension drain away from her beneath his hands. "You're not always quiet. I can think of one very specific situation in which you are the exact opposite of quiet."

He snorted good-naturedly.

A silence spanned between them then, and her mood grew pensive and restless. He saw her draw her knees to her chest and sighed, backing away only to wrap her in his arms. "Anna …"

"I'm okay. I just … Have a really hard time understanding you sometimes." She laughed again, though it was sad this time, and attempted to crack a joke. "I thought guys were supposed to be visual."

He snorted. "We are. I've told you …" Kratos softened his voice, making it a purr, a rumble in her ear. "I've told you that I do not find them repulsive in the slightest. They only serve to highlight what I love about you most."

It was her turn to snort and she turned around in his arms, looking up at him defiantly. "And what is that, Mr. Aurion?"

Kratos hummed softly, touching their foreheads. He deliberated only a moment before voicing his thoughts, "Anna, it is your unbreakable spirit."

She seemed stunned to silence for a moment before she buried her head in his collarbone, stifling her laughter as she pulled herself closer to his much larger body. "You always say the right things, "she said once her laughter had died down. "You always make me feel so … wanted. Like I'm the most beautiful woman in the world."

Kratos backed away and looked her in the eyes. "Anna, that is because you _are _the most beautiful woman in the world," he said earnestly, watching a faint blush color her cheeks.

"And you really think that, too," her voice was breathless. "You really think I'm that beautiful. You really love me that much." She slowly shook he head, apparently in awe. "I don't deserve that. I … don't deserve you."

Pensively, he paused, allowing her to hide her face from him again. His arms secured her more tightly and he buried his face in her dark hair, cherishing the contact, but saddened by the invisible burden she still carried. Kratos wanted to tell her that it was the other way around, that he was the one who didn't deserve her, but now was not the time for the self-deprecating nonsense.

Anna needed him.

And so he took a moment to formulate his words, whispering them into her hair so that only she could hear them, his voice meant to be a soothing balm to her wounds, a helping hand to ease the burden her stripes represented.

"We all have scars, Anna, things that burden us," he began. "They always make us ugly in our own eyes, and we see them as a sign of our own weakness, a reminder of our human frailty. I know that feeling all too well."

He paused again, remembering how he felt he had burdened them, his companions, the half elves of long ago, with his humanity. The scars of yesteryear dully ached, ached with remembered failures.

"What makes yours so beautiful is how you bare them, using each one as a motivation to protect others. They hurt you, but you do not let them hold you back like chains as I have," he thought of his scars, each one symbolizing a broken promise that bound him to Mithos, to Martel, to the past. "They are reminders, grim ones, but they make the fire in your eyes grow stronger, burn more brightly, even when all other lights should have been extinguished and you should have collapsed from despair. You simply …" he closed his eyes. "You do not want anyone else to suffer."

She shifted again to look up at him, perhaps sensing the emotion he was feeling, perhaps hearing it straining his voice, though anyone who did not know him as well as she did might not have heard it.

"And that is what I love so much about you. That desire for everyone to be given a chance, to be allowed to change their course," he told her, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "Even the Desians, Cruxis, those who have harmed you …"

Another pause, this one of hesitation, before he spoke again, "Even me."

He finished and she watched him, those eyes that had once so disturbed him reading his intentions easily from the depths of his eyes. For awhile she simply stared, an emotion that Kratos found unreadable straining her lovely features. He simply held her, finding that was all he could do, waiting for her to speak. Finally, her mouth opened, and her soft words issued forth.

"Thank you."

Those words were all Kratos needed to know she understood.


	3. Foreign

A Knight to Kill me: 50 Kranna Moments

By Secondhand Soul

"Foreign"

He seemed like a different person.

That was her first thought as they walked into the Governor General's office, observing the way Kratos' stance changed. Suddenly, he stood much more rigidly, as if at attention, but his strides as they walked across the carpet were lighter, more graceful, and far less predatory. Even his face seemed somehow less shadowed, the vaguely chilling expression gone from his eyes, replaced by polite neutrality that she didn't think him capable of.

"Governor General," a bow, and then a discreet glare in her direction, forcing her to follow suit; it wasn't a low bow, more a slight incline of his upper body, and it was rigid , but it was more respect than he'd ever shown her father or the other men of Luin.

"Ah, Kratos!" the blonde man grinned ecstatically, standing up and leaning forward, his hands on his desk. "How good to see you again! Come in, come in!" The blonde man's pale eyes lightened on Anna and he smiled further, though a bit confusedly."A companion, Kratos?"

"This is Miss Anna Irving," Kratos introduced her, waving his hand elegantly in her direction. "We have been traveling together, as I recently hired her on as an assistant to help me in my dealings."

"I see," the Governor General sat back down, still smiling, leaning back in his chair. "Well, it's good to know you finally got some help," the man laughed a deep laugh, from his belly, and Anna watched a small, polite, smile completely morph Kratos' face; it was the first time she'd ever seen him smile. "Judgment knows you've got enough people swarming you with job requests the way it is."

"Indeed," Kratos nodded. "Actually, Governor, I am here about a matter of some importance. I would not have bothered you while I was in the area unless I felt it was of utmost urgency."

The man considered him for a moment, then he frowned, an expression that looked out of place on a face she was already so used to smiling. "This is about the Desians?"

Anna watched Kratos carefully, then, watched him for a nervous tick, a sign that he was lying. All people had them, and Anna knew that Kratos was – had been – a Desian, specifically one of their leaders.

"Yes, I am afraid it is," but there was nothing on his face except the cordiality so foreign to her image of him.

The Governor General sighed. "I was afraid of this," he muttered, rubbing his hand across his face. "My army has drawn their attention, hasn't it?" He shook his head; it was clearly a rhetorical question. "Do you know if they're planning an attack?"

"No," Kratos answered, and Anna wondered if he were being honest, though he certainly looked the picture of honesty, all eye contact and clarity. "But I do know that their activity in your general area has increased."

Dorr hummed softly. "I'm not sure that my men are ready to deal with this, yet. Most of the fighters we have are self-taught. You know that the Church discourages violence." _Unless it's against the Desians_, Anna added mentally.

Kratos nodded and Dorr continued.

"We have a few fighters, of course, but none of them really know how to teach, so there's not much order to my ranks, I'm afraid …" he sighed. "Career soldiers don't exist anymore, just farmers and fisherman with ambition, and brigands who have no code of honor."

"If I may be so bold," Kratos interjected smoothly, the picture of knightly subservience, "that is not quite true."

The Governor General stared at him with a very serious face before laughing boldly. "You're right, you're right. How could I forget? I've never seen anyone fight like you before, Kratos."

Anna could agree with him on that – There really was no one like Kratos in the world when it came to fighting. Human and Desian alike fell before the might of his blade, and she had never seem him wounded or run out of stamina. He moved gracefully and with terrifying speed, his blows landed with bone-shattering force, and most fearsome of all, he fought with precision and purpose. Kratos fought with intent to kill.

"I'll give you a discount," Kratos offered quickly, and Anna noticed it was the first real crack in his composure.

She saw it, the flashing of his eyes, the way his jaw tightened momentarily, and Anna realized that for some reason, Kratos wanted to do damage to the Desians. He _wanted _them to be weakened.

But why?

He was one, wasn't it?

"You know that I cannot tolerate them," Kratos continued, the cold blaze in his eyes not dying, the flash transforming to a mounting glow of ferocious sincerity and powerful rage. "What they do is despicable, and I will do whatever it takes to keep the humans of this city safe."

He meant it.

"… You'd have to live on the grounds of the barracks I've constructed," the Governor General launched straight into discussing housing, though he'd probably have hired Kratos even if he hadn't offered a discount. "Of course, I'd provide housing for your secretary as well. I can promise, no harm will come to her."

Anna almost wanted to laugh at him, to tell him that she wasn't afraid of a bunch of smelly men, that she had grown up with a bunch of boys and was used to living with them, but at the same time she remembered the Desians, and what they had done to the women of the Ranch (though they'd never been allowed to touch _her_). She wasn't naïve enough to think that they wouldn't harm her – Though she knew Kratos was above that.

She stared at him, thinking how different he was from her, and how many faces he wore. The cold, clinical, scientist; the ruthless, imposing, Desian; the gruff, caustic, mercenary; and now this new, formal, polite, knightly persona. She wondered what thread tied them all together, what connected those foreign faces, and if he had any more masks he could summon upon a moment's notice as the situation suited him.

She thought she'd known him once before, thought she'd found the good person buried beneath the brazen coldness, but he'd proven her wrong, just as he said he would, when he turned out to be a Desian. But now she could see the icy resolve in his eyes and she knew that what he'd told her about not standing for the oppression of others was true. There was something missing, though, because it almost seemed …

It almost seemed like he didn't really understand what Human Ranches were until he'd met her, which was … Impossible.

In the end she realized she didn't understand him at all.

Kratos was as foreign to her as Angels were to hell.

"Then it's settled," his voice drew her back to the situation at hand. "We'll stay in the barracks with the officers," Kratos said. "And over supper tomorrow we can discuss pricing. I'm sure your wife will be glad to have another woman to speak to who is not her daughter-in-law."

Governor General Dorr laughed. "That she will." He paused, chewed his lip, and then smiled. "Thank you, Kratos. I know you're going to end up short-changing yourself to do this. It … It means much to me. I have a feeling that you're going to make all the difference."

"Believe me, Governor General," Kratos said with still assurance, "it is my pleasure."

His sincerity cut deeper than any knife.


	4. Circles

A Knight to Kill Me: 50 Kranna Moments

By Secondhand Soul

"Circles"

He looked tired, more tired than she had ever seen him look before in the entire time she had known him, and they had been living together for months now. Worn, that's the way she would describe it, how he looked stretched thin, like he was exerting himself far too much. But yet he pushed on, his body's limits spent but somehow suspended supernaturally so that he looked like a ghost of a man, with deeply shadowed eyes and pallid skin, continuing to work long beyond when his faculties should have failed him.

"You need to sleep," she said, placing the steaming cup of coffee on the desk in front of him. "You can't stay up forever."

He snorted as if she'd just said something mildly amusing, tossing his head slightly to clear his hair from his line of vision and closing his eyes. "Tell that to these papers. Percival is driving me hard, Irving. If I want to keep up with everything he needs me to do and still cover our tracks from those attempting our pursuit, I must be ever vigilant."

"How can you be "ever vigilant" if you pass out on your papers?" Anna frowned deeply, pulling his feather quill from his hand. "You can't. Percival Dorr can go suck an elf."

Kratos blinked at her owlishly. "I am not tired, Irving."

"Yes, you are, you're just being a dick about it," she placed both her hands on her hips. "I'll _**make **_you go to bed, Aurion."

He moved his chair so that he was facing her, arching his eyebrows elegantly, his handsome face taking on that amused-yet-condescending expression he wore when he though she was being stupid. "And how is that?"

Her brow furrowed as his rose and she swooped forward to capture his lips in a sensuous kiss, pulling up on his arms. Breaking away, she smiled her most sultry smile and ran her fingers through his hair, mussing it. "Come to _bed_, Aurion."

Kratos' eyes narrowed and he almost pouted, though he stood, towering over her. "It is not fair, seducing me into bed, Irving." Slowly, his arms circled around her waist and he pulled her into his chest, staring down at her, his eyes smoldering. "Not fair in the slightest."

"I don't see you complaining," playfully, she wrapped her arms around his neck, gazing up at him with a slight grin.

"Hm," he leaned down and kissed her again, eyes slightly playful as be backed away. "You are simply manipulating my lethargy after the act to your advantage."

Anna laughed and pulled away, grabbing his hand to practically drag him to the bedroom. She could hardly complain about the situation, after all – Kratos was really, really good in bed, and if this would get rid of the circles under his eyes? Bonus. "So? You like it."

She looked behind her to find his lips twitching into a thin smile. "Irving, please, you speak as if I know nothing of the basest pleasures of humanity. Why wouldn't I enjoy it?"

Grabbing both his wrists, she pulled him with her as she tumbled backwards onto the bed. "You sure know how to make a girl feel special," she joked, drawing his lips nearer for a kiss.

He pulled away, staring down at her with an intense look in his dark eyes. Anna shivered, feeling suddenly self conscious and drawing her arms up over her chest. "Kratos …?" she chanced, watching him shake himself of whatever thoughts plagued him.

"You are special," his words accompanied a soft kiss to her jaw line and gentle a tug on her earlobe with his teeth. "Anna."

"Flatterer," she batted at his chest, but felt heat rise to her cheeks, her fingers soon skirting down his chest, slowly popping buttons open to reveal his pale skin. "Though I don't mind …"

"Only for you," he said before silencing any further response with a hungry kiss that erased all other conversation.

When all was said and done, she lay in the crook of his arm, enjoying the feeling of their current closeness, as she usually did. He was relaxed now, snoozing lightly beside her, his face relaxed, looking more peaceful in sleep than he had a right to.

With a pang, she realized this was the first time he'd ever fallen asleep before her, and couldn't help the smile that came to her face at the thought. Maybe she was over thinking it, he was pretty tired, but she thought it may be a sign of his trust.

They really had come along away, hadn't they?

It was like they were circling toward one another always, and that they were destined to collide. She wasn't really sure if that had happened yet or not – there was still so much she didn't know about him – but one thing was for sure; no matter the outcome of all of this, Anna would never regret befriending Kratos and she would never regret the aftermath.

He'd given her too much for her to.


	5. Smile

A Knight to Kill Me: 50 Kranna Moments

By Secondhand Soul

"Smile"

He pulled himself closer to her, hiding his face in the crook of her neck as she stroked his hair gently, her fingers snaking through the strands, separating them before they came back together. All he wanted to do was simply touch her, not in a sexual way, but simply to feel her skin against his and to ground him, to know that she was his.

It truly was a soothing sensation, the afterglow of their love making, though this really was different than the other times. Not only had it been nearly a year since they had been together, but this time … This time it had been with the knowledge that they loved one another.

Kratos wanted to laugh.

Not because anything was particularly funny. There was nothing funny about being in love with her, nothing funny about the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, or how she would stare at him when she thought he wasn't looking. There was certainly nothing funny about how simply being with him put her in danger.

No, Kratos wanted to laugh because he had never been this content. It had taken him 4000 years to find this, to find this thing that he had been longing for, and he had never once dreamed he'd find it in the arms of another, especially not this woman.

How funny the universe was, giving him his supreme happiness in the form of a supreme love, the love he never desired.

She shifted in his arms, pulling away only slightly, staring at him for a long moment with an unreadable expression in her eyes. After only a moment's deliberation she gently leaned forward and claimed his lips for an affectionate kiss, stroking his face with her hand and letting it linger.

Kratos could only manage to gaze at her, his heart constricting with a sudden and powerful emotion that he could not name – It was more than mere romantic inclination, more than friendship, it was a feeling that made his throat tight with respect and admiration. This woman … This woman had changed his life, had torn his world apart and flipped it upside down, had broken every boundary he had ever set, and he adored her for it.

He would do anything for her.

_**Anything. **_

"Anna," he muttered, his voice breathless as he planted kisses lightly over her face, lips touching her nose, her brow, her cheek again and again. "Anna …"

It was the only way he knew how to express this feeling, this feeling that made his heart ache and burn with such a gentle passion by the likes of which he'd never felt before. Just the sound of her name was enough to command his attention, and when she spoke her voice was the balm that healed his invisible, and long festering, wounds.

"Anna."

She giggled, grabbing his wrists and kissing him on the lips again, her green eyes sparkling with mirth. Anna mocked him, but not in truth, he could tell from the way her lips curved softly that she was touched by his gesture.

There was little he could do save return her smile.

Anna's expression flickered to one of shock and he suddenly frowned, wondering what he had done wrong, but at the change she cried out. "No! Stop! Don't do that!"

His brow furrowed further and he held her away from his body slightly, tilting his head. "Excuse me?"

"Do it again," her hands cupped his face and she pouted almost desperately, "Smile."

Kratos blinked? Had that really been it? Was him smiling so rare that she would be surprised to see it? He chuckled and shook his head. "Are you so desperate to see my smile?"

The look she gave him was very serious, her hands stroking his jaw gently. "I've never seen you smile like that before. There was no malice in it," she paused, kissing him again, her kiss soft and filled with the sincerity of her affections. "No bitterness, just … Has anyone ever told you that you have a beautiful smile?"

Against his will, heat rose to his cheeks, prompting her to laugh and him to glance away. "So bashful," she chided playfully, mussing his hair. "So handsome," her volume dropped and she pulled herself closer to him so that she was curled up against his chest. "And all mine. What a lucky woman I am."

"I am the lucky one," he murmured as he secured his arms around her, pressing his lips to her brow. "I am … So fortunate …" The feeling returned to his chest, and he found that words failed him one again. "You are so beautiful," he pulled away slightly to look at her again. "I only wish I could express how much I love you."

She stared at him for a moment and then smiled. "Believe me," Anna told him, "I already know. Everything you do screams how much you love me."

Kratos smiled.


	6. Childhood

A Knight to Kill Me: 50 Kranna Moments

By Secondhand Soul

"Childhood"

"What were you like when you were a boy?"

Kratos blinked at her question, looking back at her as she lay on the bed, her hands stroking her swollen stomach almost thoughtfully. It did him good to see it, to see her so content in her pregnancy, which had frightened her up until this point. The idea of being a father … Of her being a mother … It was terrifying, but it was good to know she had finally come to accept it as he had, that they could not change what had happened and had to live with the consequences, which meant raising this child to the best of their ability.

"What brought this on?" he asked, setting his book down and walking over to the bed to sit at her feet. "You do not usually ask me about who I was before Mithos."

He stared at her face, watching her green eyes sparkle with unvoiced laughter. "Well it never really seemed important until right now, I guess." Pausing, she chewed her lip. "The truth is, I didn't want to push you. I know how hard it is for you to talk about, I guess I just … I feel like I should know about the boy Kratos if I really want to understand the man Kratos, the father of my own child."

Blinking, Kratos lowered himself to the bed next to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "Anna, I am not remotely the same person I was as a child. Trust me when I say that you have all of me, that you are the only one who has ever had all of me and known me as I truly am."

She shifted awkwardly in his arms, but managed to turn herself so that she faced him, placing a hand on his cheek. "I know that, I'd just like the knowledge to accompany the feeling, angel."

Eyes slowly sliding closed, Kratos hummed softly in contentment, placing his forehead against hers. "It's not particularly interesting, beloved," he told her in a breath. "I was a fairly reserved and precocious child, if … An overly curious and bossy toddler, I have been told."

"You're still bossy," her tone was light, as were her lips against his own as she kissed him. "You're just discreet about it."

He chuckled and nuzzled her, cracking open his eyes to gaze fondly upon her. "I didn't have many friends as I was the lord's son and I went to school with the servant's children. They tended to avoid me so I sent my time play sword fighting in the woods and reading books and climbing trees."

"Awwwwww," Anna clasped his cheeks in her hands and laughed. "Tiny tree climbing, book reading, baby."

Frowning, he backed away from her a bit. "Is that strange?"

"Well, the village boys I always knew were a bit rowdy. They took a lot after their fathers, I guess," she shrugged. "Growing up we'd all get in fights and stuff, over who got to help do things at the docks. Certain jobs gave you a bit more extra spending coin than others, but I suppose you didn't have to worry about that."

"My childhood was more sheltered than yours," he said with a languid smile. "You were always aware of the threat of the Desians and such things. Growing up, no one ever spoke of the war. I was not even aware of it until the lord shipped me off to military school, nor had I ever left his estate before then."

"And then you became a solider anyway," she buried her face in his shoulder. "A real one. A knight."

"Yes," he said simply, a bit amused at her behavior and tone. "A knight. Though I still fail to understand what fascinates you so much about that particular thing."

Anna only laughed at him and kissed him again, this time on the tip of his nose, making him frown and go cross-eyed for a moment, which only made her laugh more.

"It's just an Anna thing," she said after she had calmed down, leaning into his shoulder heavily. "I really like knights. Dad used to tell me all kinds of stories about them growing up and I never really grew out of it, so the fact that you're a knight is kind of …" a sigh escaped from her lips. "Kind of really perfect, considering how astronomical the possibility of me ever find a knight to be with was otherwise."

Kratos only looked at her for a moment before relaxing and laying back, his head on the pillow, his arms still wrapped about her. "I suppose you could say that, though the nation I served has long since ceased to exist."

"You never stopped being a knight," she pointed out, something Kratos could not really deny.

He had been fighting the Kharlan War for the last 4000 years.

Kratos had never ceased to be a soldier.

"Our baby is going to have such a great daddy," she muttered into his neck, reaching down to take his hand and guide it to her stomach, where he felt the child kick after only a moment. "So protective and loyal. So kind and wise. What a great father you'll be."

He felt his own eyes fall. "I never … had a true father figure, Anna. By the time I discovered my biological father, the one who loved me and wanted me to be happy, I was fifteen years of age. It took me another five years to accept his love and affection." Swallowing, he forced himself to turn his head and look into her eyes. "I don't know how to be a father."

"Kratos … My mother died when I was a little girl," she forced him to look into her eyes with gentle and travel-worn hands. "I don't know what to do any more than you do, but I promise you that we'll be fine."

Blinking slowly, his eyes cleared when he felt the baby kick again. Deep emotion filled him at that moment, and his eyes flickered down to stare at her stomach, his heart fluttering with this sensation that was stuck in his throat – This indescribable feeling of affection intermingled with apprehension.

"This is real," he suddenly said, voice choked with emotion. "This … This is real. We are actually … We are going to be parents."

Anna's laugh was shaky and light, her hands guiding his face down to kiss him breathlessly, though his hand did not leave her stomach. "Yes, Kratos," she told him, pulling away. "It's very real. "

"A child," he said, closing his eyes. "Our child. Anna – "

She held a finger to his lips and smiled at him, caressing his cheek with the other hand. "Don't speak anymore. You'll just get yourself worked up, angel." This time, it was Anna who pressed their forehead together, reminding him not to worry, to follow his own advice and to take the future in stride. "Just … Keep this feeling." Her finger trailed from his lips to his chest where she spread her hand over his heart. "Don't let it go."

Smiling, he took her hand from the chest and kissed the back of it. "Do not worry, beloved, I will not."


	7. Mother Nature

A Knight to Kill Me

By Secondhand Soul

"Mother Nature"

Anna looked at him from across the fire as he wordlessly peeled potatoes, Noishe curled about him like a great security blanket while Anna had nothing and no one to comfort her but the traveling cloak wrapped around her shoulders. Small comfort when she could have the strong arms of the very same man peeling those potatoes wrapped around her.

Wrapping her arms more tightly about herself, she turned her face away, tears stinging her eyes as she stared into the fire.

_Damnit, Irving! Why do you have to be so stubborn?_

Why couldn't she just admit she was wrong? She anguished, ignoring the feeling of his gentle eyes upon her. She didn't want him to feel bad, to hate himself for this, even though she knew by the way that he gave into her stubborn desire not to speak to him … That was exactly what he was doing. But he was Kratos, and really what had she expected?

Wasn't this supposed to make her feel _be_tter_? _Being mad at him?

It didn't.

A month without speaking with him and it wasn't worth it, she was finding. It was just has hard to watch him suffer as it was to be mad at him, and the more she thought about it, the more she realized she was mad at the situation. Really, how could he have possibly known any more than she had? That it was even possible, considering that he wasn't organic and she was …

Her.

She had to let this go.

She had to or they were both going to go insane.

"Kratos …" she began, hearing the potato peeler hit the ground and saw him freeze, staring at her in shock; Anna didn't miss the gratitude that flickered across his face. "Can I … come over there? I'm … I'm cold."

Wordlessly, Kratos moved over, allowing Anna to cautiously creep up and sit beside him, leaning into his side, automatically leaning into the warmth of his embrace. And it was an embrace, too, because just like that, it was like she'd never left his arms, like they'd never stopped sharing a bed. Just like that, he'd forgiven her, but if Anna knew Kratos like she thought she did, he'd probably thought there was nothing to forgive in the first place.

"I missed you," he rumbled, nuzzling her softly and kissing her forehead with gentle lips as he pulled her closer.

His perfect, deep, voice lulled her into a state of peace and made her feel like they could almost go back to the way things were before. Of course, she knew it never could back to how it had been because … Because it would never be just the two of them ever again. They were expecting, which …

It was what all this was about, wasn't it?

"Kratos, I'm … I'm sorry," she pulled away and looked up into his eyes. "I'm really sorry. Things are hard enough already and I just went and made things worse. I'm sorry for making you feel alone, I'm –!"

A rough finger was placed to her lips only to be replaced by his mouth a moment later. Hesitantly, he pulled away and then kissed her chastely again, cupping her face in his hand and touching their foreheads together. "Anna, it is alright. I am not mad, nor have I ever been."

"Well maybe you should be," her eyes filled with tears and she tried to look away, but found his other hand rise to cup her other cheek and hold her face in place. "I did a terrible thing, Kratos. I shut you out because I was – am – scared. And I just … I didn't know what to do, and I panicked, and I got mad, and –"

"Anna," he said her name again, always gently, brushing her hair from her face and the tears from her cheeks. "Beloved." There was another long, loving, kiss to punctuate the word and give it its full meaning. "Anyone would be scared. And it was … This hardly could have happened without me."

"Well it couldn't have happened without me, either," she grumbled, blinking her eyes to fight back more tears. "So just don't blame yourself only, okay? I don't."

She saw him inhale and he released her face, taking her into his arms and pulling her into his chest so that she sat on his lap, her head against his shoulder. "Can this be anyone's fault?" he wondered out loud. "Should this feel like punishment?"

Anna started.

He was right. It _did _feel like punishment – Punishment for the fact that they had tried to be happy on their own terms when so much else was wrong about the world. And it would be punishment, too, for the child inside of her, because they were hardly equipped to be parents.

"I don't think it should," she finally responded, suppressing her shudders. "I think people are supposed to be happy to … To get pregnant."

His fingers wound themselves through her hair and he began to pet her gently. "I can think of plenty of situations in which a child would not be a blessing to its parents." Kratos told her softly. "That being said … It is not the child's fault. I do not want to lose sight of that."

She looked up into his face, finding him staring stubbornly into their campfire, the flames reflecting in the depths of his dark eyes, his brow knit more tightly over his eyes than it usually was. Anna knew that he was thinking about his past when he did that, about the things he'd never told her and maybe she would never completely know. Looking away and placing her head against his chest again, she realized just how much about him she really didn't know.

She wondered if she would ever know everything.

"I'm just scared," she said. "I'm just really scared, Kratos. Scared that the Desians will catch us. Scared that Cruxis will catch us. Scared that the baby will make me sicker. Scared that we'll die."

"I will protect you from Cruxis and the Desians," Kratos told her, though his tone made it apparent that there were some things she couldn't protect her from – And that included himself.

"I know you will, Kratos." Anna muttered. "I trust you."

She felt his eyes on her again but he didn't say anything – Maybe because he didn't have anything comforting to say to her. Because he probably felt she couldn't trust him after this had happened, and that he'd gotten this bad, this mopey, this introspective, was her fault because she'd left him alone with his emotions to stew for a month.

"It really isn't your fault."

"I made a mistake, Anna. This is a mistake and I cannot take any of it back and I am sorry," he finally said, his voice resigned, pained. "I have put you in danger."

She could feel it coming from him, the deep seated regret that she was all too familiar with. The kind of regret that she knew could make your throat feel like it had a lump in it. "Kratos, I wanted it. I love you, and I wanted you, and you didn't do it alone. It's not like you … You forced yourself on me, so you really don't have to feel so guilty because I did it, too."

"But I do. I told myself I would never, ever, tell you how I felt because people I care for have a way of ending up damaged or dead," Kratos' grip on her tightened, and she sensed that he was using her to ground himself to reality against a wave of crushing emotion. "But I broke my promise. I told you when you confessed to me because I was caught off guard and because …"

He didn't need to finish that sentence for Anna to know what he was going to say. He'd said it to her enough times for her to finish it for him.

"Because you never thought anyone could love you because you think you're a monster."

"I wanted to feel human, whole, just once. I wanted to do something normal and mundane as being in a relationship with a beautiful woman who loved me," Kratos' hold did not loosen. "But I should have known better, Anna. I shouldn't have been so careless as to think that this … This sort of thing was impossible just because of an Exsphere."

"Kratos –"

But he cut her off.

"It is selfish, but I am so angry and I do not want the child. I do not want it to have to grow up with a father like me. I corrupt perfectly normal people who were just fine before they met me. I do not want to know what kind of … Messed up thing a child that I raised would grow into."

Anna reared back and slapped him.

It silenced him, leaving him staring at her, though not in shock. He looked guilty, abashed, as if he knew he'd done something horribly wrong. "Don't say things like that. First of all, it's insulting to the … The baby," she said. "And second of all, it's insulting to yourself."

He simply continued to stare at her, so she continued to speak.

"You're not a monster, Kratos. Mithos and Yuan are just as liable for their actions as you are for yours. Your biggest crime is that you have such a big heart you don't know what to do with it," gently, she soothed her hand over where she had slapped him only a moment earlier. "And I wanted you. I was pretty sure this was a risk, but I wanted you anyway, because I love you and you make me feel alive. And no matter how scared you are, I know that you're not an Angel of Death, you're a knight and a good man, and you'll be a wonderful father."

"I just do not want to hurt either of you," he muttered. "Because I, too, am afraid. Afraid because you are the first person in many thousands of years who has ever bothered to look at me and not see the angel. I just do not want to lose you and I do not want this child's life to be forfeit because of me." He paused. "It deserves a chance independent of its father."

"Well maybe its father deserves the chance to love it and prove himself worthy," she told him, looking deep into his eyes. "And maybe it needs the chance to have a father who loves it instead of having a father who gives it away in fear."

There was another silence, this one more awkward, but it allowed her to lean back against his chest again, for his fingers to work their way through her hair again.

"Do you want this baby, Anna?" he finally asked her.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't know, Kratos, but all I know is that when I close my eyes I can't see anybody raising our baby but us."

He was quiet again for a long time.

"It is going to be fine," he said a moment later, and even though he didn't believe himself, she believed him enough for both of them.


	8. Pen and Paper

A Knight to Kill Me

By Secondhand Soul

"Pen and Paper"

"What're you doing?" Anna leaned over his shoulder as he worked, his pen gliding smoothly across the paper. "Taking notes?"

"I am making a plan," Kratos replied, turning back to look at her, his dark eyes somehow distant and unseeing despite the fact that he was staring at her. "I have much to do."

She glanced at the page, finding that he was writing in a strange language she couldn't read. Frowning deeply, she reached down to trace the letters farthest up on the page with her fingertips before feeling his eyes finally focus on her. Looking back at him, she smiled. "So, plans about what, Mr. Aurion?"

"My plan to research the Eternal Sword," he stood up and stretch, and Anna couldn't help but notice his shirt lift up to show off his muscular stomach. "Are you alright?"

Tearing her eyes away, Anna looked up into his eyes and offered him a lazy grin. "Just fine. I'm just wondering about your fancy letters."

He arched his eyebrows before he sat again, picking up the papers and frowning a bit before straightening them and placing them back on the desk. "This? These are Angelic Runes," he said. "I suppose I write in Angelic out of habit now when I am making notes to myself. It is, after all, the clerical language of Welgaia."

Blinking, she stared at the letters, finding them to be very pretty. "Angelic looks nice," she said. "I mean, it's pretty."

"The language we speak evolved from it," Kratos explained. "Long ago, before my ancestors were even born, they spoke this language. It only remained in the scriptures of my time and was largely unspoken. Because of this, we adopted it as our own holy language. It was more familiar to the people of the time, more comfortable."

"So it was a strategic move on Cruxis' behalf?" Anna wrapped an arm around his shoulder, leaning against him.

"Most of the Martel Faith is cannibalized from the Church of Ratatosk or any of the most popular god cults," Kratos glanced to her with a somewhat bemused expression on his face. "I didn't know you were interested in history."

"How can't I be when you're a walking relic?" She grinned and punched him lightly in the arm.

"Very funny," his eyes sparked with amusement as he wrapped an arm around her waist, forcing her to keep the blush from her face. "Yes, I know. I am older than the oldest book you have ever laid eyes upon."

"And you probably present a more accurate history, too," she turned her head to face him and stared him in the eyes. "I'd like to think you're a reliable guy."

"As would I," Anna's brow furrowed at the expression that flickered across his face, resigned and almost embarrassed.

"So what's the plan of attack?" she changed the subject, turning her attention back to the paper, feeling him withdraw his arm, which for a moment seemed hesitant to leave (maybe that was just her wishful thinking though).

"I need to go to Palmacosta and gather books to research Summon Spirits. It may be difficult in Sylvarant, but I have an idea of what I am looking for."

"So basically you're going to be spending a lot of time reading really old smelling books?" feeling his shoulders tense, she pulled her arm away and crossed her arms over her chest. "Sounds like a riot."

He snorted and then stood again, obviously feeling restless. "You're right. Do you want to go out to get a bite? I'm going to be cooped up after we arrive in Palmcacosta. I might as well make the best of things …"

Anna grinned and quickly linked her arm through his. "Sick of pen and paper for now?"

"They say the pen is mightier than the sword," Kratos said with a small smile, "but I always preferred to let my actions talk for me."

And together, arm in arm, they went out into the Asgard evening.


End file.
